


The electric things have their lives, too.

by barthelme



Series: Mors Certa, Vita Incerta [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Androids, M/M, are we human or are we android
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barthelme/pseuds/barthelme
Summary: Armie buys an android on clearance.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, I didn't proofread anything, rage deleted everything, and then forgot that life would prevent me from doing anything for a while. So, I'm slowly proofreading, revising (like, Timmy can't eat sandwiches. What was I thinking?), and reposting.

Armie buys Timmy 2.0 on clearance. His eyes are closed and the cellophane is covered in a thin layer of dust. They are making Timmy 4.2 at this point, so 2.0 is old. They all have the same face, Timmy, but different hair, varying body types. Armie picks the one with longer curly hair and a concave stomach. He uses the self checkout because even though buying androids is normal, it's embarrassing for a man with the tan line of a wedding ring still on his left hand.

Timmy 2.0 sits in his foyer, untouched for two weeks.

_____

Armie gets drunk after Liz leaves. They had meant to have a nice meal, maybe reconcile, but then she kissed his cheek and pressed her palm against his neck. “I’m glad you’re doing well,” she said, before backing away to the door. 

And that was it.

He locks the door and stares at the package Liz hadn’t mentioned. It isn't hard for him to rip it open and pull the body from the box. It flops over his shoulder, throws it over the back of the couch, gangly arms falling onto the seat of the couch, hair falling over his face. 

It came with a sample bag and one of the items, of course, was lube. He doesn't bother with fingering. Slides in and thrusts, thrusts, cries until he's coming.

Before he goes to bed, he wipes the cum off Timmy 2.0’s inner thighs. He pressed the button behind his ear; Timmy doesn’t move. He’s read they are on normal schedules, so he might not wake until morning. Armie shrugs and goes to bed.

_____

In the morning, Armie makes eggs. He’s eating them at the table when he hears movement from the living room. Armie carries his plate and starts to investigate.

What he finds is Timmy on his knees, left hand behind himself, right holding his cock.

“What are you doing?” Armie asks, even though it’s clear. It’s even more clear as Timmy’s left hand comes to his mouth; Armie can see the cum on his fingers--his cum from last night--before Timmy sucks them into his mouth. “Jesus, don’t do that,” Armie says, dropping his plate--it breaks--and rushes to rip Timmy’s hand out of his mouth. “That’s-” he wants to say gross, but in all honesty it’s hot. It’s really fucking hot and he has no idea how this was on clearance. “Just don’t.”

Timmy 2.0 cocks his head to the side, licks his lips. “Can you fuck me again, sir?”

“Don’t say that,” Armie says.

“Daddy? Master? What do you want?”

Armie realizes he’s still holding Timmy 2.0’s wrist. He presses his thumb against his palm. “Armie. Call me Armie.”

_____

Armie retreats to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He told Timmy to stay, and when he’s dressed and ready to go to the grocery store, he finds Timmy fingering himself.

“Ugh,” Armie groans, and grabs the instruction manual. Apparently, first impressions are important and it can take weeks for him to settle into normalcy. He probably shouldn’t have fucked him out of the box. Live and learn. “Please don’t finger yourself,” Armie says.

Timmy stops immediately, then sits on his haunches. His eyes aren’t closed, but they are focused at the ground and Armie wants to grab him by the hair and fuck his face. His face is softer, almost more feminine, than Liz's. Part of him wants to destroy Timmy, take that softness away. But a bigger part (probably the part not going through a divorce), wants to hold his hand and give him foot rubs. 

Instead, Armie asks, “Do you want to watch TV?”

He does.  
_____

Later, they’re watching a movie. Armie has his arm around Timmy, who is stiffly leaning into him, like it’s just a factory setting. It makes Armie’s stomach hurt.

“I won’t hurt you, okay?” Armie says, stroking his thumb up and down Timmy’s shoulder. “I won’t.”

Timmy nods and presses his cheeks into the crook of Armie’s neck.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who read the previous version: I changed a few key things, added a bit to a scene or two, and made it seem like I almost know how to proofread like an adult. So, you may want to reread it, or at least skim. Also, I'm glad you're glad it's back :) 
> 
> For those who didn't read the previous version: Pretend I almost knew how to proofread this whole time.

Armie fingers him first. He knows he doesn’t have to; androids are always ready. The idea makes Armie sick, which is why he slides one finger in, twisting against the light resistance. He adds another. Licks Timmy’s bottom lip. Timmy shifts his chin up, trying to deepen the kiss, which makes Armie grin before giving him what he wants. 

“Armie,” Timmy groans, somehow spreading his legs more. “Want that big cock in me.”

Armie reaches his free hand up and covers Timmy’s mouth. “Don’t.” 

He can see the word registering in Timmy's mind; he doesn't like the emotions that flash through Timmy's eyes. He doesn’t try to think about it and slides his palm from Timmy's mouth to his cheek, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. Back and forth, back and forth until Timmy is nuzzling against the pressure. His eyes shut. Timmy hums. 

Armie could almost stop everything and curl up with Timmy. Sleep. 

Almost.

And then Timmy is speaking, so quiet, and any notion of sleep is erased. "Please, Armie, I want." Timmy licks his lips. “Another, please. Another finger,” and Armie grins, slips another digit into him. It feels as though he’s being swallowed, and he tries to breathe. Compose his thoughts. Slow down. Instead, he sneaks down and kisses Timmy, who rocks against Armie’s fingers while he sucks on Armie’s tongue.

Later, when Timmy is filled with Armie, he says, “I would really like to go on a walk.”

Armie promises that they will in the morning, then rolls over so Timmy is on top of him. "You're, just," Armie whispers, and Timmy just stares down at him, cocks his head to the side. Leans back, presses a palm against the mattress and starts to rock on Armie's cock. Lazy but firm like he's reaching for exactly what he needs. 

Timmy closes his eyes and, for a moment, Armie feels like he's not in the room, but when Timmy comes (untouched. Jesus. Christ.), he pants, "Armie, Armie, Ar--" shuddering and coming all over his own belly. 

Then, he's back, eyes flashing open and locking on Armie. "You feel good in me." He shifts and Armie almost forgot the point of all of this until Timmy is holding onto his shoulders and fucking himself--hard, really hard, fuck Armie isn't going to last and that's okay, that's brilliant--and panting. 

When Armie comes, he sees white, then red. Timmy slows, sits still while Armie softens inside of him. They stare at one another for a moment and Timmy licks his teeth. Smiles. 

_____

They are at the beach and Timmy is wearing one of Armie’s shirts. It’s too big on him, of course, and it makes his arms look so much smaller than they really are. They’re small to begin with, but right now, he looks like Armie could bite him in half, and he almost wants to.

The things Armie wants to do are sickening. He wants to hold Timmy’s wrists and press his face into the sand. He wants to fuck into him until he’s sobbing. He wants to slap him and make him scream.

He also wants to pull his waist closer to him while they watch a movie. He wants to fall asleep smelling his shampoo.

“What do you do?” Timmy asks.

“I go to the office,” Armie says. “I work in IT. It’s pretty boring.”

Timmy laughs. “No, like what do you do that isn’t lame.” He seems to hold his breath for a moment, like he said something wrong. Armie snorts. 

Armie looks up at the sun, falls back onto his towel. “Tennis. I like tennis. I cook, I read, I write.” he swallows and looks at Timmy, already knowing the answer. “What do you do?”

And then Timmy is between his legs, knees buried in sand and hands clutching at the towel Armie is on. He mouths Armie’s cock through his trunk and Armie could cum like this. Fuck, this is a terrible idea. This is the worst idea.

And then Timmy is yanking his trunks down and thank god it’s not a great beach day and no one else is in sight because his cock is out and Timmy is sliding his tongue up and down, up and down, moaning against Armie’s skin.

Armie wants this to go on forever, but he grabs Timmy’s hair and pulls him away. “No,” he says. “No.”

Timmy presses a kiss to Armie’s inner thigh.

Armie’s phone starts to vibrate; it’s Liz.He pulls his shorts up and is about to reach for it when Timmy grabs the phone and rolls off. He presses it to his ear and then palms his cock. “Hello?”

“No, yeah, he’s busy. I’m Tim. Liz? Did you need me to give him a message?” He grins at Armie.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that. Have a good day.”

_____

Armie never asks what the message was. They go home and nap. When they wake, Timmy wants to shower, but he doesn't know how. Armie puts him in the tub, runs the water, and scrubs him clean.

After, he sits him on the edge of the sink and sucks his cock until he clutches the porcelain and shakes.

_____

This is how it goes on. They wake up, put their mouths on one another, and Armie goes to work. Timmy watches TV and reads magazines. Armie comes home, they cook, Timmy watches him eat, they kiss, and they sleep. Armie is happy. Armie is really happy.

_____

It’s a Thursday night when Armie finishes showering and finds Timmy at the edge of the bed. He is kneeling with his arms folded under his head, staring behind him. “Hi, Armie,” he says. Curls fall across his forehead but can't hide his eyes that are searching, searching for Armie. 

His hole is wet with readiness. Armie knows he could slide in easily. Can almost feel the clench around his cock from across the room. 

Armie closes his eyes and walks out of the room. “No,” he says. He can hear the heavy sigh and the weight of Timmy falling into bed, clutching Armie’s pillow.

“Why?”

Armie turns off the light in the living room, makes sure the front door is locked, and then falls into bed next to Timmy. “Just, not now,” he says, while Timmy burrows against his chest. He notices a slight twitch as he strokes the small of his back. "Maybe tomorrow."

Another sigh, but Timmy starts making patterns on Armie's abs with his thumb. Slower, and slower until he's asleep. Armie presses his nose into Timmy's hair, then let's himself go to sleep as well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those that read the previous version: This chapter has been changed a lot, so you should probably reread.  
> For those who didn't read the previous version: Banging your head against a wall burns 150 calories an hour.
> 
> Thanks for reading :) I speed-proofed this chapter, so apologies if there are mistakes.

Timmy starts asking questions.

Armie doesn’t bother changing any of Timmy’s settings. He’s on autopilot, basically. Armie has read the manual; he can make him more obedient, cleaner, less sex crazed, more sex crazed, less talkative, etc.

Instead, he keeps him slightly mouthy, horny, and messy. And, apparently, inquisitive.

“Why did you get a divorce?” Timmy asks one day when Armie gets home from work. He’s thumbing through a magazine, cross-legged on the couch. His hair is in his face and Armie wonders if he should buy him bobby pins to keep it back. He hates when he can’t see Timmy’s eyes.

Timmy looks up, raises his eyebrows.

Armie’s bag gets tossed on the ground and he kicks his shoes off. “I got married too young.”

“How young is too young?”

Armie sits next to Timmy, laughing when he drops the magazine to the ground and crawls onto Armie’s lap. “There isn’t an exact number. I got married too young for me. Some people get married earlier than I did and it works for them. I was still in like, frat boy mode, and Liz was in family mode, but she was really hot and kept pressuring me. Biological clocks, you know.”

Timmy rolls his eyes.

“I’ll explain that later. Anyways, I didn’t know if I wanted to be tied down by a family and then she just,” he licks his lips. “Moved on. We’re friendly.”

A month ago, Armie would have jumped at the chance to get back with Liz. Now, he wraps an arm around Timmy’s waist. “Should we nap? I’m tired.”

“Why do you people nap all the time?” Timmy asks, but he climbs off Armie’s lap and walks to the bedroom, discarding clothes along the way. Timmy always sleeps nude, which makes it hard for Armie to sleep some night, but waking up is never hard to do.

_____

 

The questions keep coming.

Why do you read? To learn. To experience.  
Why do you have to go to work? To pay for lights and food and this apartment.  
Why do you listen to music? Are you seriously telling me you don’t like listening to music? Jesus.

_____

Liz shows up. Timmy answers the door.

“Oh. You.” He steps back to let her in. “Armie is in the kitchen.”

He goes back to his magazine, looking up every now and then with an eyebrow cocked. Armie doesn’t think androids have lasers in their eyes (there was a weird conspiracy about this two years ago that Snopes disproved, but a lot of people are still nervous about considering the initial glitches that came along with androids), but he’s pretty sure this is the look they speak about when people say, “If looks could kill.”

“Who’s that?” Liz asks, sliding onto one of the barstools. Armie is doing dishes.

“Timmy. He’s my roommate. You talked ont he phone the other day.” There’s an audible snort from the living room.

“He seems nice,” Liz fakes a smile. “How are you?”

Armie rinses the sponge and grabs a towel to dry. “Great. Good. You?”

“Same.” Liz smiles. “Listen, I just wanted to stop by and say that I wish things hadn’t gone they way they did. I get that you aren’t ready for kids, and we could always adopt or foster or--” she shrugs.

She really is beautiful. Armie knows this. When they walked in a room, she always drew focus. It was hard for him to accept because, before her, he was the one that eyes were drawn to, but then her kindness made up for the jealousy almost immediately. He’d felt lucky the first time and the last time kissed her. He knew that when he walked down a street, holding her hand, people were jealous he got to fall asleep with her.

Hell, he still wouldn’t mind falling asleep with her.

“The divorce isn’t final yet. We could,” she shrugs. Rolls her eyes. “I miss you. I miss talking to you before we go to bed. I miss our random ‘adventures,’” and they both laugh, remembering the last one to a mini train museum where the man running it seemed like he hadn’t spoken to a human in four years.

It would be easy. The families would be happy, friends would be excited not having to choose who to invite to parties.

Armie smiles, puts a plate into the cupboard. There’s an odd silence from the living room and he looks over. Timmy is never quiet for long, but it’s been silent since the snort.

“I, uh. Can you give me a minute?” He dries his hands and throws the towel over his shoulder. Timmy isn’t in the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom. But he hears a thud from the bedroom closet. He opens it, and Timmy is softly rocking back and forth, his head hitting against the wall. “Tim,” Armie starts, pressing his palm against the small of the boy’s back. He feels a shudder, twitch. Timmy’s whole body seems to crack at once.

“Don’t return me. Please don’t return me,” Timmy whispers. “I’ll be good. I’ll clean up. I won’t talk back. I’ll stop with the questions. Please don’t return me.”

Armie wants to simultaneously cry and punch a hole in the wall.

_____

He lets Liz down swiftly and softly. Says he’s in a weird place right now, that he needs time to think, that maybe what they had was good but that was all they should get.

Anything. He says anything to get her out of the apartment and back to Timmy, who is now curled in a fetal position, holding one of Armie’s shirts against his face.

It’s weird to try to cuddle someone in an apartment closet, especially when the two people involved are almost thirteen feet tall combined, but Armie tries his best. He puts an arm around Timmy's waist, kisses his forehead, cheek, nose, in that order. Over and over until Timmy opens his eyes. He looks ridiculous, legs sticking out of the closet, but his own heart evens out when Timmy grins, however forced it is. 

“I’m not returning you,” he says, and he can feel an unhuman tweak in Timmy’s body. Fuck. “But you need to tell me why you are so scared of being returned.”

His whole body is around Timmy, nose pressed into his curls, arms tight around his waist.

“I don’t,” Timmy starts. “I don’t remember a lot. They reset me, but you always remember a little bit.”

And then, it starts. Armie is his third owner (and, fuck, the words hurts when Timmy says it.) The first was okay, but it was a rich woman who upgraded at every model. The second was an older man--probably in his forties--who was the type of person that Armie would probably get in a bar fight with. Timmy remembers very little, but he remembers being ready at all times, multiple people being involved, pain, humiliation, sadness.

These aren’t things Armie thought androids felt, but then again, he also didn’t think androids could learn to rap, and Timmy proved him wrong last week.

“I just thought that’s what everyone wanted, but you don’t, and I don’t.” Timmy breathes heavy, his chest shaking. “I don’t know how to stop wanting to fill that. For you.”

_____

“I like it when your cock is inside me, Armie,” Timmy says. He props himself up on his elbows, hair falling across his forehead. The way he says “Armie.” Fuck. Armie wants to flip him over and give both of them what they want, but even picturing it makes him feel ill. Images of Timmy on his knees with strangers around him, scared but still trying to please everyone are rolling through his mind and his stomach hurts. 

They watch each other, the room lit only by moonlight and street lamps. “What if,” Armie poses, “You fuck me instead?”

The pause in the room is sharp. Then Timmy starts laughing. It’s the first time Armie has seen Timmy have a big belly laugh; the kid is always chuckling after a sarcastic remark or laughing when Armie makes a stupid joke. But this laugh that makes his body shudder and head fall back, almost thwacking against the headboard is. His stomach loosens. 

Nice.

It’s nice. It's really nice. “Shut up, I’m serious. I’ve only been fucked once, so it will feel good.”

“Your realize that’s not how bodies work, right?” And Armie can’t believe he’s being lectured on how bodies work by an android who doesn’t understand biological clocks. “Bodies are elastic.”

Armie shrugs. 

“It’s okay; you can just suck my cock, Armie.”

And Armie wishes he’d stop saying his name like that, but he pulls Timmy’s boxers down to his knees and wraps his mouth around him. He’s already hard; it takes moments for Timmy to get hard at even the thought of sex. It never takes long for him to get off, and when he starts to come, Armie pulls back, and opens his mouth. Let’s Timmy’s cum splash against his lips, chin, neck.

When he looks up, Timmy’s thrown an arm over his eyes and his chest is heaving.

“I was serious. I want you to fuck me,” Armie says, before getting up to clean off. His cock his hard and painful, but when he gets back to bed, Timmy has rolled over and gone to sleep. He thinks about Timmy in a dusty box, sitting on a shelf for who knows how long and his cock begins to soften.

_____

There used to be a lot of discussion about androids vs. robots. At first, no one really understood what these androids were; now, they’re common place. Your barista is probably a perfectly friendly and helpful android. But, Armie still has a lot of questions.

He stayed up all night thinking about Timmy’s cum, because he could still taste it on his lips. Timmy doesn’t eat, doesn’t drink, doesn’t go to the bathroom. He did come with a bag of things that he sometimes takes to the bathroom where he disappears for an hour.

Armie doesn’t really know how to answer these questions, and he doesn’t really care to know the answers some days.

Today, he watches Timmy plant herbs on the balcony. Apparently, he learned how to order things online and Armie was dumb enough to save his credit card information on his computer. But, watching Timmy kneel in front of these pots, carefully filling them with dirt and pressing seeds down--it feels natural.

He doesn’t want any answers.

He watches Timmy sleep. Timmy is naked, like usual, and Armie admires his shoulder blades, his spine, the spot where the sheet hides the rest of his beautiful body. He looks soft, peaceful.  
_____

A few days later, Armie wakes up and Timmy is gone. He's not in the closet, the bathroom, the living room. Armie is about to throw his shoes on and a shirt, run out into the streets in his boxers when some movement on the balcony catches his eye. Timmy is rocking back and forth on his heels, holding his hands out like he's trying to size the area for a couch. 

"Jesus, Timmy, what are you--" Armie hisses when he pushes the door open. Timmy is naked. Armie wraps him in a hug and pulls him back. 

"Basil. Oregano. Rosemary. Cilantro. Parsley." Timmy keeps listing herbs and Armie can feel him twitching against his chest. Short little jerks, like a mechanical hiccup. "Dill. Tarragon."

They'd been talking about gardening on the news. Timmy's eyes had lit up when he saw the green leaves, so Armie had taken him into the kitchen and let him smell the dried herbs. 

Timmy keeps listing herbs and Armie doesn't know how he knows this many herbs. Armie doesn't even know this many herbs. He closes the door and pulls Timmy against him even tighter, but Timmy doesn't seem to notice he's not on the balcony. 

"Chives. Mint. Sage."  
_____

 

Armie puts Timmy to bed, then calls the hotline.

“What’s your ‘droid’s ID number?” the woman asks.

Armie rattles off the code from the instruction booklet. “TC-894298.”

“Oh, alright. So, this is a refurbished model. An older one. Great face, right?”

Armie sighs.

“Anyways, they found the refurbished ones didn’t really forget their past. Which is why we discontinued them. If you want, we can issue you a partial credit and you can upgrade to Timmy 4.2 and that problem isn’t an issue.”

“No. No, I don’t want a credit,” Armie says before hanging up. He meant to ask about the hiccups, but doesn't really want an answer.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for not replying to comments; I've been trying to power through these revisions, but I'll try to be better about that. 
> 
> A few new scenes in this revision and the removal of one. 
> 
> Also, I have an empty tumblr (https://bartbarthelme.tumblr.com/) that I'll likely start using to talk myself through plot holes and possibly post snippets about Timmy gardening that have no point to the story other than making me smile.

Timmy fucks him.

He doesn’t understand it, so he fucks Armie dry in the morning. They’re both sleepy and Timmy is hard, but he slots his cock up against Armie, slips in. A lump forms in Armie's chest as he breathes in, and in, and in as Timmy pushes all the way in. Armie understands Timmy doesn’t get how this is painful, so he clenches his toes and lets Timmy fuck into him. Tears slip from his eyes, but Timmy kisses his neck, strokes his cock.

He whisper, “I love you, Armie,” and his name doesn’t sound dirty.

Timmy pulls out before he comes. He shoots against Armie’s back.

Armie is hard. He doesn’t know how he is possibly hard because everything hurts. And then Timmy’s mouth is against his ass. His hand are pressing into his thighs.

Fuck.

____

Timmy's herbs are sprouting and some afternoons, Armie comes home to find Timmy on the balcony. At first, he thought he was talking to the plants because Armie had made a joke about that the week before. He always stops talking when Armie opens the door, stands up and gives him a kiss. Asks him about his day. 

Today, Timmy didn't close the door the whole way and Armie hears him. He's cross-legged on the balcony, watering can to his left and his herbs surrounding him. "I know there's a monthly fee and I know you don't have time to go with me every night, but I really think I could walk there and back--no, I should wait on that. Shoot." Armie presses his back against the wall next to the sliding door. Smiles. "Armie, the balcony isn't big enough for vegetables and I would really like--no, I think I would be good at--no, I would like to grow tomatoes for you. Yeah, I would like to grow tomatoes for you." 

"Timmy," Armie calls out. He can picture Timmy freezing from his spot on the balcony, turning his head toward the cracked door. "I would love it if you grew me tomatoes."

He hears Timmy's silent celebration, fist pumps and that stupid grin. 

"I'll send the HOA an e-mail tonight and get it set up."

There's a long pause, likely more grinning on the balcony, and then, "What about peppers?"

Armie laughs and pushes the door open. Drops to his knees and kisses Timmy's nose. "We'll have a salsa garden."

_____

 

The second time is

So

Fucking

Good.

Armie teaches Timmy to finger him and he is a student. He has three fingers in Armie and his tongue pressed against his fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Armie hums, sliding back and forth on Timmy’s fingers. “You're gonna make me come.”

Timmy laughs and crooks his fingers. “Such a slut,” he says before slapping Armie’s ass tentatively. He can almost hear Timmy gulp as he says, “Such a good little slut.” It sounds like, "Am I doing this right? Is this okay?" Armie imagines himself saying those words to Timmy and it makes his cock twitch. 

He removes his fingers and traces them up Armie’s balls to grip his cock. He sucks hard on Armie’s ass, stroking his cock hard until he comes.

Afterwards, he licks the cum from the blanket before picking it up and dragging it to the washer.

Later, when Armie is still open, Timmy fucks into him, coming so hard that he shuts down and Armie actually has to hold the button behind his ear for three seconds until he comes back.  
____

“Jim is the worst,” Timmy says. He’s eating a popsicle and presses his head against Armie’s chest. “Total babe, total dick.”

They’re watching The Office and Armie laughs. He opens his mouth and Timmy slips the popsicle over. It’s grape. Armie licks, bites the tip.

_____

Armie comes home with ten bags of dirt and six plant pots. Two big boy tomatoes, two cherry tomatoes, one jalapeno, and one serrano. He gets gloves, a shovel, a hoe, and a hose. He's pretty sure most of this is available in the garden shed, but he wants Timmy to have his own things. 

It's worth the trip to the suburbs to get everything just for the look on Timmy's face when Armie shows him his little plot of the community garden. 

Armie doesn't even mind walking out there with him every night to weed and water. 

_____

Liz calls and Timmy answers again. "He's busy," Timmmy says because Armie is actually busy sucking Timmy's inner thigh until a deep bruise starts to form. "NNghh--No. I said he's busy."

Finally, he rolls his eyes, covers the mouthpiece. "It's Elizabeth."

Armie sighs and reaches for the phone, swiping his tongue over Timmy's new bruise. Timmy flops his head against the back of the couch. 

"Armie, what the fuck is going on? I've called you at least--"

"I've been busy, Liz." 

"Doing what? Fucking that robot? Armie, seriously, I'm ready to rip up the papers. Let's get lunch and--"

"He's not a fucking robot, Elizabeth."

"Armie."

"Liz."

"This is ridiculous. I've talked to your mom and we both agree--"

Armie wraps his free arm around Timmy's left calf. Kisses his knee. "The fact that you think anything my mother has to say will change anything just--" He stops. Exasperated. "You are the one who filed. You don't get to change your mind. I'll have my lawyer call yours."

He ends the call and tosses the phone to the other end of the couch. Looks up at Timmy who has lifted his head to watch. "Where was I?" 

Soon, there are stepping stone bruises making a path to Timmy's hipbone. 

_____

They wake up at 5AM to watch the wedding. It's historic, so Timmy even gets dressed before noon, slipping into one of Armie's sweatshirts that just barely covers his ass. He's wearing thick wool socks that stretch up to his calves and it might be the sexiest thing Armie has ever seen, especially when he crosses his legs and reveals the faint bruises. 

"This is weird, right?" Timmy asks. 

Armie shrugs and takes a sip of coffee. "I don't really know."

"It's pretty, though," Timmy says. 

It is pretty, but Armie is not sure how he feels about the first human/android wedding to legally take place, even if it's across the globe. He keeps searching the android's face for any signs of resentment. He doesn't find any. 

He glances at Timmy when the newleyweds kiss. "No, yeah. This is weird." 

Armie lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I just changed everything about this chapter, I think. The next part of MCVI will likely be the same-ish, but I may do some short segments before posting that.

Armie goes to work, Timmy reads magazines, Armie comes home, Timmy gardens. Sometimes, Timmy fucks Armie. Usually, they use their mouths, their hands. Sometimes, they rut against one another like teenagers; Armie felt dumb the first time, up until he came in his pants. Now, he's okay acting like he's sixteen, as long as Timmy is there. 

Life goes on. 

_____

Liz stops by unexpectedly. Armie doesn't know how long she knocked at the apartment door, but he gets a text while they're in the garden. "i can see your car. i know you're here, armie."

"in the garden w T."

He goes back to weeding and telling Timmy about the interns that got engaged at his job. Timmy is pretty invested in this office romance; they ran into the couple a few weeks ago when they were on a walk. Ever since, Timmy wants updates on Greg and Annika and their whirlwind romance, which apparently has been a _thing_ since the first week of their internship began a few months ago. 

"What's an arboretum?" Timmy asks when Armie tells him they got engaged on a weekend trip to LA. 

"It's, like a park, but where they have plants and trees everywhere. And they use it to study different plants, trees. Soil, maybe? I don't really know." Armie yanks at a particularly annoying weed. Tosses it towards the orange Home Depot bucket they use for yard waste. He's wearing Timmy's gloves because, "You have to go to work. You can't have gross nails and look even more like a giant ogre." Timmy had winked as he said it during their elevator ride to the ground level. 

"Can we go sometime?"

Armie uses his shirt sleeve to wipe the sweat from his forehead. Timmy's skin is dry; he never really sweats unless they're having sex. Squinting into the sun, he watches Timmy prune yellow leaves from one of the tomato plants (Armie has no idea which is which). "Yeah. Maybe next month when everything is in bloom."

"Speaking of in bloom," Timmy shifts back on his heels. The knees of his jeans are filthy. "We should grow pumpkins. Can I order seeds?"

Armie shakes his head. "We can go to the garden center. There's a small one like two miles from here. We'll go this weekend." 

Timmy grins that stupid, soul sucking grin that spreads across his face like a flood. "Cool."

Armie goes back to weeding, pulling and picking what Timmy has instructed him to while Timmy prunes the plants and says something about planting marigolds next season to keep the bunnies away. 

The text is forgotten until Armie sees movement at the corner of the garden. He looks up and Liz is there, still dressed for the office in heels and a pencil skirt, hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail. She looks stunning; Armie remembers being jealous some mornings when she would leave for work. He didn't want her sitting in a cubicle next to young college grads. He didn't want her having lunch meeting with executives. 

He waves and can see that she's smiling. She waves back and Armie pauses his work, expecting her to come talk. 

Instead, she nods her head and walks towards the front of the apartment. 

A few minutes later, he gets a text. 

"I'll sign and send the papers tomorrow."

Timmy is talking about how he will be able to make fresh salsa by next week. 

_____

Armie can count the dicks he's sucked on one hand (even if he were to lose a few fingers) so he's pretty proud of himself for being flat on his back while Timmy holds the headboard and fucks into his mouth. His hands are resting on Timmy's ass, not pushing or pulling, just existing on the skin. The skin around his mouth is starting to itch, a mixture of spit and precum, but he doesn't care, because Timmy is rambling. 

(Timmy rambling might be his third favorite thing about Timmy, after his smile and his desire to learn. Though, honestly, his desire to learn can sometimes be annoying at two in the morning when he has a question about why we're comfortable during the day but need a blanket to sleep at night.)

"Fuck, I love feeling you choke on my cock, Armie--you take it so well--opening up for me and--fuck--fuck--letting me take you--gonna cum all over your fucking face--" Timmy reaches down and presses his fingers against Armie's throat. It makes him gag, but then Timmy is stroking his throat with his thumb and Armie doesn't know if his eyes could roll back any further, but his cock is aching and Timmy won't shut up. "I could just stop right now--shit--and you'd just try to fuck your mouth on my cock, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you, Armie? Tell me."

Armie tries to say, "Uh huh," but Timmy's cock slips a bit further into his throat and his eyes are watering, but he wants more.

"Fucking figured," Timmy grunts. He slaps softly at Armie's face before returning his grip the headboard and continuing his assault on Armie's mouth. 

Armie's chest heaves and his asshole clenches. He wants Timmy to fuck him and just the thought of it right now is making his cock leak. 

"Armie, I'm going to come and then I'm going to ride that cock. Gonna fuck myself nice and slow until my cock is hard again and then, if you fuck me nicely and come in my ass, I'll let you suck my cock again. But only," Timmy presses in deep, his pubes nestled tight against Armie's nose. Armie breathes hard, smelling skin, and soap, and Timmy, Timmy, Timmy. "If you're a good boy."

It might be the idea of fucking him, or the smell of Timmy, or even just the word "boy," but Armie is coming and tears are rolling down his cheeks, his temples, because it's so good. 

Timmy freezes. He looks behind his shoulder, back at Armie. "Did you just?"

Chest heaving, Armie grunts around Timmy's cock. 

"Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Armie." Timmy accentuates each word with a thrust before pulling out and coming on Armie's face like he promised. 

____

Later, they sit on the shower floor as the water cascades on their bodies. It's unspoken but understood that both their legs are weak and standing is just too much right now. 

"Why won't you fuck me?" Timmy asks. He seems dazed and his voice is cracking. His eyes don't seem to focus. 

Armie tries to lean back, tries to relax, but they're both too big to be in a tub together. "I just," he swallows, hard. His throat is sore and he's pretty sure his lower lip is split. He tastes iron. 

He doesn't know how to say, "The idea of fucking you just makes me think of everyone who has fucked you before and hurt you. And I don't want to hurt you, I want to keep you in a little bubble, away from anyone who might ever think about hurting you. But I also want to hurt you. I want to fuck you and make you squirm," without sounding like a fucking idiot. 

"I just like when you fuck me," he grins hoping that Snopes was correct when saying androids can't read minds. 

_____

Armie comes home and Timmy is on the balcony. He drops his bag by the door and then taps his knuckles on the glass. Timmy doesn't look up. He's cross legged, head bent forward. Even when Armie opens the door, Timmy doesn't budge. 

"Hey, Timmy. Basil is looking good. Timmy?" 

Armie sits next to him, presses his hand against Timmy's cheek. He's warm, but his eyes are closed and his breathing is shallow. It's the third time this week. 

He presses the button behind Timmy's ear for three seconds, then waits. 

Timmy's eyes flash open, and he smiles. "There was a hummingbird," he explains. We should probably get a feeder."

Armie nods. Smiles back. "Probably."

They go on a walk and Armie gets a sandwich on the way home. Timmy seems normal, but every now and then he stops walking, cracks his neck, and blinks repeatedly before falling in step with Armie again. 

After Timmy goes to sleep, Armie calls a few android repair shops. He gets the same answer. "We don't work on that model. You should probably upgrade, Sir."

Armie emails his boss, telling him he tested positive for strep. Claims he was babysitting his neighbor's kid who had strep.  
____

In the morning, Armie doesn't make coffee. He barely stirs. Instead, he rolls toward Timmy and brushes the hair from his face. Kisses his nose and waits. It's almost ten o'clock when Timmy's eyes blink open. 

"Hi," Armie whispers. 

"Hey."

It's like a wave when Armie rolls on top of Timmy, skin on skin, lips on lips. He doesn't have to think as he reaches between them, spreading Timmy's thighs and pressing his fingers inside. Adding one finger, then another, and another until Timmy is sighing happily against his neck, whispering, "Please, please, please, please."

Armie tries not to cry as he pushes his cock into Timmy, but he can't help it. He can't help anything anymore. 

He buries his face into the crook of Timmy's neck, trying to steady his breathing as he sinks all the way. When he's there, filling Timmy completely, he asks, "Are you okay?"

He goes slow, even though he can tell Timmy wants more. Hopefully, there will be time for what Timmy wants some other morning. 

Afterwards, he stays inside Timmy, even though it is just on the wrong side of painful. He worries he's crushing Timmy, but those thoughts are erased when Timmy, pats his back, kisses his cheek. "I know you won't hurt me, Armie."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so the first part is revised and I changed everything and am second guessing all of it. So, you're welcome to witness me slowly spiral into snippet madness on [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bartbarthelme).
> 
> Eventually, I'll get to the rest.


End file.
